After Dewey's fleet had passed the island and entered the bay, proper, Marie crept up to the top of the cliff and awaited the results. As she sat there shivering with fright, day began to dawn. Presently she heard the Spanish batteries on Point Cavite fire a heavy shot--then a second one; and a few minutes later she saw flames of fire and smoke belching forth from the starboard sides of Dewey's entire squadron. Then the Spanish fleet, lying off of Point Cavite, commenced a united and simultaneous action. Shells rent the air; the men on both fleets cheered as they beheld the effect on the enemy of a well-directed shot; smoke-begrimed gunners, with the perspiration washing light-colored furrows down their manly cheeks, stood at their guns and worked like demons as they swabbed their cannon and crowded into them shot after shot. Hissing projectiles that missed the opposing ships and plunged into the bay, were throwing volumes of splashing foam into the air. Dewey's vessels were moving in a figure eight and using alternately the several guns on their port and on their starboard sides, while the Spanish ships moved about promiscuously among each other in an awkward fashion, over a small area, and fired only as an opportunity offered. "Thank God, I'm out of range of the demons," said Marie to a Spanish officer who had come to her side. Just then, there was a lull in the battle. Dewey's ships ceased firing and withdrew to the middle of the bay. No apparent damage had been sustained by the vessels of either command. "The old fellow is going to quit," said Marie to the Spanish officer who stood erect with his field glasses carefully trained on Dewey's squadron. "They're coming this way, Marie," said the officer. "My God! where will we go, if they come past the island and open fire on us again?" shouted Marie. "We haven't a mounted gun left to shoot with." The officer remained quiet. Presently he said, "They've stopped and are dividing up their ammunition. Evidently they are going to resume the fight." He guessed it right. In thirty minutes Dewey's vessels were heading straight for the Spanish fleet. His first shot set on fire the beautiful Spanish flag-ship, the "Reina Christina." Then her magazine blew up. She was hastily scuttled on the beach near Cavite and deserted amid great disorder by that portion of her crew which was able to leave. The dead and the dying were left to their fate. Magazines in several other Spanish ships soon blew up. In a few minutes most of them were on fire. Dewey's gunners were doing deadly execution. Hundreds of Spanish soldiers could be seen jumping from their burning vessels into the ocean.